


Four centimetres

by Deputychairman



Category: due South
Genre: Fraser is a troll, Height Differences, M/M, Ray manages to love him anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 07:03:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3199934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deputychairman/pseuds/Deputychairman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“But when you stand up straight,” Fraser continued, either not knowing or not caring that he was only digging himself into a deeper hole, “I don’t think anybody would really notice. I hardly notice myself.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four centimetres

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clevermanka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clevermanka/gifts).



> For my girl [clevermanka](http://clevermanka.tumblr.com/), because of [this post](http://deputychairman.tumblr.com/post/108155078078/clevermanka-deputychairman-wagnetic) on Tumblr. Look, she ASKED for this, ok? With thanks to [cicak](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cicak/pseuds/) for speed beta duties and spotting where I implied things by mistake, because I wrote it at work and that isn't a very good idea.

Ray’s medical file was in American and it said that he was 5 feet 11 inches tall. Which he was. Fraser’s medical file was in Canadian, and it claimed he was 1 metre 83 centimetres tall. Which maybe he was, who the hell knew. He was the same height as Ray, was the important thing.

Until Ray moved to Canada.

His first medical, before he started work, they took his blood pressure and made him cough and stick out his tongue. They weighed him. They measured him. And the number they wrote down was 1 metre 79 centimetres.

Which Ray didn’t notice until he got home and shoved the form into Fraser’s hands.

“Hey, read this and tell me if I need to do anything Canadian with it,” Ray said, starting the endless business of taking all his outdoor layers off.

“Anything _Canadian_ with it, Ray?” Fraser queried, reaching out to steady him as he struggled his boots off. “Such as…?”

“Yeah, I dunno, get Immigration to sign it to prove I’m not bringing cooties into Canada or something.”

“Oh. Right you are.”

Fraser let him go and moved into the light, already reading. That was something you had to appreciate about Fraser. He helped you take your boots off without being asked, and he’d never say “You’re thirty seven years old Ray, why don’t you read it yourself?” Or “It will say the same thing when I read it as when you read it” or any of the smart remarks a person could make when someone else’s official looking paperwork was shoved in their face on their afternoon off.

So he was feeling pretty warmly towards Fraser when Fraser looked over at him then away again, a fast, assessing sort of look, and said “Ah.”

It wasn’t one of his usual _ahs_ – not one of those hedging-his-bets, gonna-make-you-ask-me ones, and it wasn’t exactly one of the high-pitched surprised ones, and it definitely wasn’t one of those really good ones he’d only been hearing for the last six weeks and would never ever be tired of, those low breathy _ahs_ that meant Ray was doing something just right.

 “ _Ah_ what? What do I gotta do?” Ray asked.

Fraser blinked at him and looked back at the form. “Oh, nothing, Ray.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing, this is just your personal copy, they’ll notify your employer that you’re fit for work.”

Kicking his snowy boots into the corner, Ray came up close to squint at the page with him. “So?” 

“Well, it just caught my eye that – well, I’ve never seen your height in centimeters, that’s all.” Fraser cleared his throat. He glanced at Ray again then back down at the print out. It was starting to bug Ray, the way he kept doing that. “But other than that…”

“What, did they get it wrong?” He squinted at the page until Fraser’s finger pointed out the place. “1 metre 79, they put.”

“Yes, I see that.”

“And?” Ray was pretty sure what Fraser was getting at, but if he’d learned anything in the last 20 years it was how to let a person keep talking so they’d incriminate themselves.

“No, nothing. Really.” This time Fraser gave him a sidelong look that seemed to fix on the top of his head and then slide all the way down to his sock feet. “I mean, it’s barely noticeable,” he added.

“Fraser,” Ray told him firmly, “You are not taller than me in Canadian.”

Fraser took a small step back and put his hand on the top of Ray’s head. Holding it perfectly level, he brought it back to where it touched his own hairline.

He held Ray’s eyes for just a second. A single, infuriating second.

“No, hardly at all,” he said.

“Bullshit! You can’t measure me with your hand in the air! That ain’t proof!”

“Of course not,” Fraser agreed. “The doctor measured you.”

“ _Me_ , yeah, but what about you? How tall are _you?_ ”

Ray watched Fraser not-smile. Fraser was really good at not-smiling: when another person might have given in to the urge to _smirk_ , Fraser could stand there and look you right in the eye and not even twitch.

“One metre 83.”

“That doesn’t count, I don’t know what that means,” Ray objected. “What is that in American?”

“Six foot, Ray.”

Well _that_ was bullshit. “No way are you six feet tall!”

“I most certainly am,” protested Fraser, somehow managing to stand even straighter.

“No, you aren’t,” Ray told him. “Because _I_ am not six feet tall, and you are not taller than me, Fraser, so you are not six feet tall either. You gotta be 5’11, tops.”

“It’s probably your hair, Ray. You don’t _look_ shorter than me, because your hair adds a couple of centimetres…” He correctly interpreted Ray’s glare and corrected himself: “Inches. It adds about an inch.”

“Show me somewhere that says you are six feet tall, Fraser. Show me some evidence of this that will stand up in court.”

Fraser’s eyes widened in injured innocence. “Are you implying that I’m _lying_ to you about my height?”

“Uh-uh. No. Not _lying._ Just maybe, uh, exaggerating, or remembering wrong because you’d _like_ to be six feet tall, or, or – maybe somebody lied to _you_ about it, in Chicago –” Because if Fraser wasn’t taller than him, which he wasn’t _,_ then somebody had to be wrong, right? “Your doctor probably wanted to get in your pants. They probably put that because they were coming on to you! To make you feel good!”

Fraser was looking at him in bewilderment.

“Ray, I can assure you that my relationship with my doctor in Chicago was perfectly professional. You really don’t need to worry about false medical records or any kind of inappropriate behaviour – the man must have been 60 years old, the Canadian government trusted him with - ”

“Ok, forget about the doctor! Nurse, then.”

Fraser’s look of bafflement deepened, then he shook his head as if dismissing the whole thing.

“Well. It doesn’t matter – I mean, I was hardly aware of the height difference in the first place, but now that you ask, I think I do have an American document…” Fraser broke off as he crossed the cabin to pull a file from the shelf above the bed and flick through it. “Yes. There you are.”

He held a page out to Ray.

Ray took it.

It was a copy of his accreditation to work with the Chicago Police Department dated April 1994, and didn’t it just figure that while Ray’s recently arrived stuff was still in boxes, Fraser’s was already all neatly unpacked and put away somewhere he could use it to annoy Ray?

 **Fraser, Benton** (it read)

 **Nationality:** CANADIAN (in big letters like someone might not notice)

 **Date of birth:** April 30 1959 (which Ray knew, but Fraser had never exactly told him)

And then it said

 **Height:** 6’

And all the rest about eyes: blue, hair: brown, distinguishing features: none, which you could see from the photo stapled to the top of the page where Fraser looked really, really young and really really pretty. Ray felt free to notice details like that now he was shacked up with the guy.)

 

Ray silently handed it back to him.

“But when you stand up straight,” Fraser continued, either not knowing or not caring that he was only digging himself into a deeper hole, “I don’t think anybody would really notice. I hardly notice myself.”

He stretched to put the file back – and it was on the top shelf, like he’d just been waiting for this opportunity to gloat that only somebody who was _six feet tall_ could reach it. His shirt rode up just a tiny bit at the back as he stretched, showing Ray a glimpse of pale skin.

Fraser turned back to face him and licked his bottom lip. He was still not-smiling.

“You don’t think anyone would really notice, huh?” Ray asked, stepping closer.

Fraser shook his head. “No, whether you’re talking one inch or four centimetres, it’s really not a significant difference…”

He trailed off as Ray took another step towards him.

“Fraser. If you say one more word about it, swear to God I will - ”

Fraser smiled and put both his hands on Ray’s shoulders. A manly, commiserative sort of gesture, _too bad for you, Ray my friend._

“It’s already forgotten, Ray,” he said. “It’s entirely possible that all the doctors who have ever measured either of us have been working with faulty equipment, and those four centimetres are really more like - ”

That was all Ray could take. He launched himself at Fraser and brought both of them down on the bed before Fraser had time to defend himself. Not that Fraser looked like he wanted to defend himself: Fraser was already giggling before they hit the mattress, that dorky little laugh that came out when he was laughing at his own jokes.

“I’ll show you four fuckin’ centimetres…” Ray muttered breathlessly as they struggled briefly for dominance.

As well as the four centimetres he _didn’t_ have, Fraser probably did have 20 pounds on him and by rights should have ended up on top. So when Fraser relaxed and went still and lay panting and smiling under him, it had to be because Fraser wanted to be there.

“Who’s taller now, huh?” Ray asked, pining his wrists above his head.

Fraser grinned up at him and pulled his hands free.

“I am, Ray,” he said, starting to unbutton Ray’s shirt.

Ray leaned in to return the favour. “Yeah well, it don’t show when you’re lying down. Maybe you’re doing that conversion thingy wrong.”

“Maybe I am,” he conceded, voice muffled as Ray yanked his undershirt off over his head.

“Maybe I got a couple centimetres on you in other places. Maybe we oughta forget who’s taller and think about that.” Ray was looking him right in the eye as he started to unbutton his own jeans, and there was no missing how much Fraser liked the sound of that.

“I thought - ” Fraser cleared his throat “ – that it was what you did with it that counted?”

“Oh, you wanna see what I can do with it?”

“Very much so, Ray,” said Fraser, rolling over onto his belly.

Ray was never ever going to get over how easy Fraser rolled over for him. How he just kicked the rest of his clothes off and offered his sweet ass as soon as Ray said he wanted it. Like this was what he was getting at all along, like this was his way of _asking_ to get fucked.

He was so beautiful like this, all spread out and unselfconscious as Ray rubbed him and teased him open with slick fingers.

“You still taller down there?” he asked when Fraser came up on his hands and knees, seeking contact.

“Just those four centimetres,” Fraser said, voice hoarse.

“You’re gonna have to show me what four centimetres is, Frase. Is it…”  Ray’s voice didn’t sound much better as he pressed the slick head of his cock to Fraser’s hole, just the very tip pushing inside. “This much?”

“I think it’s – more than that,” Fraser gasped as Ray started to open him up.

“Yeah?” Ray let him have just a little bit more, both hands spreading his cheeks so he could see what he was doing.

“Yeah, it’s – ah,” _there_ it was, one of those good _ahs_. One of those _ahs_ that drove Ray crazy. “Ray, ohh - ”

“Yeah, I - ” Ray bit his lip, pressing in to that tight heat as slow as he could. “Now?”

Fraser spread his legs wider, hips hitching up. “No, it’s, it’s - more. I want more.”

How could anybody resist that? Benton Fraser on his hands and knees, asking for more cock like he’d die if he didn’t get it?

Ray bit his lip and watched as his cock slid further into Fraser’s ass.

“Yes, yes, _Ray,_ ” Fraser panted.

Ray traced a circle round his cock then rubbed gently over Fraser’s stretched asshole, making him tremble. “How much is that, huh?”

Fraser gave a moan of pleasure before he managed to answer. “It feels like – oh God – more than four centimetres now…”

“You bet it’s more than four centimetres,” Ray muttered. It was all he could do to keep control. Fraser felt so _good_ around him, so slick and tight, that beautiful ass raised up high to take it.

“Give me more,” Fraser said. Still pushy, even now.

And Ray gave one smooth slow push all the way into Fraser’s ass, letting him have it _all_.

Fraser dropped his head to the pillow, turned on one side so Ray could see his soft open mouth, the dazed look of pleasure on his face as Ray started to fuck him. He didn’t care who was taller, he didn’t care how much four centimetres was: all that mattered was Fraser beneath him, taking it and taking it and still pushing back to get more as Ray fucked him slow and deep.

Maybe someday he could make Fraser come just from this, without even touching his cock, but today he wasn’t going to last that long. Fraser was making all these noises under him, desperate, wonderful noises that were driving him right to the edge, aching with how hard he was and how good it was.

“Oh God, Ray,” Fraser said when Ray took his erection in a loose fist. He pushed back onto Ray’s cock and forward into his hand and then he was coming, his ass clenching, burying his face in the pillow as he cried out.

Ray lasted about 6 seconds longer before he lost it too, collapsing on Fraser’s back in a blissful fucked out heap.

 

Fraser let him lie there for a minute before gently rolling him off and flopping onto his back.

“Hey,” Ray said.

“Mmm?”

“You know what they say, right?”

Fraser wasn’t trying to hide his smile now. He was outright grinning at Ray, hair mussed and face flushed from sex.

“Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise?”

“Not that.”

“Um, no man is an island?” It was his just-got-laid voice, lazy and sated.

“Nah. I was thinking more like what you said before, about how it’s what you do with it that counts.”

Fraser reached out and pulled Ray close, somehow found the energy to roll on top of him.

“It counts very much Ray, they are absolutely right,” Fraser agreed. “I’ll try and use my inch of height superiority as a force for good in the world.”

“You don’t have an inch, you got four centimetres because of home team advantage.”

“And as for your extra inch, Ray,” he went on, ignoring Ray’s interruption, “I would say you use it so well that it transcends actual physical measurements.”

“You saying I’m really good in bed?” Ray couldn’t fight his smile. “That what you’re saying?”

“Yes, Ray. That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Fraser replied gravely.

And it wasn’t like Ray was insecure about anything or anything, or like he needed Fraser to sweet-talk him, but for validation like that, well, he was prepared to take a hit on the height thing.


End file.
